


Someday My Prince Will

by half_sleeping



Category: Kuroko no Basuke | Kuroko's Basketball
Genre: Crack, Crossdressing, M/M, disney complexes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-06
Updated: 2013-05-06
Packaged: 2017-12-10 14:04:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,637
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/786879
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/half_sleeping/pseuds/half_sleeping
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Written for BPS Challenge 17 Captains: It's a lot of work being the girl of Akashi's dreams. Rakuzan!Nijimura.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Someday My Prince Will

Akashi was roused from his work- really, didn’t anyone keep _records_ properly in Rakuzan- by the sound of a knock on his door, not the strident and insistent knock that Akashi used to hearing from the only person who intruded this late at night, but a soft, almost hesitant knock. Akashi turned to face the door- had it been that long? It was past midnight, he had barely noticed- and called, “Enter.”

What promptly swept in was as unlike anything Akashi had ever expected to see sweep into his dorm room as- well, anything. Nijimura-sempai, the only one who dared intrude onto Akashi’s private time, much to the un-private awe of the rest of Rakuzan’s team members, minced in, wearing a dress- a long skirted dress, which nevertheless fell a few inches short of his bony ankles in his sneakers, and a shawl that Akashi thought he recognized as one of the table cloths in the lounge clutched tight around his shoulders. Clearly no one had thought to provide sempai with a wig, but his fringe had been gathered up and clipped to the side of his head with silver-painted clips, and he fluttered his eyes at Akashi as he simpered and said, “Oh, may I come in?”

Akashi stared.

Nijimura, taking silence for assent, stepped into the room and closed the door behind him. “I do hope you’ll forgive me for trespassing,” he said, in a breathy falsetto, folding his hands in front of him. “But I noticed that your light was on at this late hour, and I just had to come see if you were working late again, even though I’ve already told you that that kind of work is what you have a vice-captain and managers for.”

This, at least, was a familiar argument. “I have a preference for my own system, that is all,” he started. “I only need to-“

“Shh,” said Nijimura, closing Akashi’s laptop with a snap, his other hand coming up to rest a finger on Akashi’s lips mid-protest. “Aren’t you tired, Akashi-kun? You look tired. I think,” brandishing a thermos from who-knew-where, “You should take a nice break and drink tea with me.”

Akashi allowed himself to be led away from his desk to sit seiza on the floor of his room, utterly bemused, watching Nijimura wrestle with his skirts until he managed to settle down, the cloth spread around him like the petals of a blooming flower. Hearing Nijimura-sempai try to speak like girls did was almost as amusing as watching him enact his version of refined behavior, simpering at Akashi and moving his hands with entirely too many graces and flourishes. "You're pouring the tea wrong,” he said, when Nijimura might have just upended the thermos into the cap.

Nijimura shot him a dark look but returned to trying to pour the tea as daintily as possible, saying, “Akashi-kun will have to forgive my unworthy self, but in my haste to provide you with sustenance, I overreached myself,” in a voice of poisonous and unconving sweetness. He set the tea in front of Akashi, and then, pointedly stared at Akashi until he picked it up, two-handed, bowed to his sempai with perfect posture, and drank.

“How nice,” said Nijimura sweetly, eyeing Akashi’s politely attentive face. “Here, have another.”

“Should I be drinking caffeine at this time of night?” said Akashi, who, now that the first shock was over, rather felt he was highly entertained. No one had tried to put makeup on Nijimura-sempai, which Akashi thought was clearly an unacceptable oversight that would have to be remedied. “That would keep me awake.”

Nijimura glared at Akashi once more, but recovering quickly he dropped his lashes and raised a shawl-covered fist to cover his mouth, sighing, “But I wouldn’t want you to drop off, Akashi-kun- not after I’ve gone to all this trouble to dress up for you and…” his eyes peeped at Akashi, darkly wicked, inviting him to share in their private, intimate joke, and suddenly this wasn’t as funny as Akashi had thought it would be anymore, “…come here to entertain you. All night, if necessary.”

“Have you,” said Akashi, and if it came out a little less archly sarcastic or blandly enquiring and a little more dark and sensuous midnight promises, well he was only playing along with Nijimura-sempai’s little joke.

As abruptly as he’d started, Nijimura dropped the girly act. “Yes, I have, you little brat,” he said. “This is the third week running you’ve been up all night saying you’re working on club business, and I _know_ there isn’t even that much club business to work on. I told you not to overdo it.”

“I’m not overdoing it,” said Akashi, automatically, and dropped his own gaze in turn. Somehow he could never get over being twelve and new whenever Nijimura showed up and started scolding like he was fifty years Akashi’s elder instead of something in the neighbourhood of fifteen months. “It’s all necessary work for the good of the club.”

“Somehow,” remarked Nijimura to the air, instead of his errant junior, “We managed to keep going as far I could see for an entire year until Akashi-kun arrived, and I think _somehow_ we won’t collapse into chaos even if our genius first-year captain takes a few breaks once in a while.”

“I’m taking a break right now,” said Akashi, and meekly sipped his tea.

“The girl of your dreams materialized and plied you with tea and flattery until you stopped working yourself to exhaustion,” said Nijimura grandly. “This is not going to happen every time, Akashi-kun.”

“What flattery?” said Akashi, interested.

Nijimura ducked his gaze to the side and looked up at Akashi’s face again, “Despite,” he fluted, “your manly physique and your astounding intellect, your- _rapacious_ stamina, even the great Akashi-sama mustn’t over-exert himself- after all, we’d be so utterly lost without-“

“What very sensational dramas Reo must watch,” interrupted Akashi, once he felt himself no longer able to keep a straight face. “And what very strange dreams you must think I have.”

Nijimura laughed, then, and Akashi almost blinked in the realization that this _was_ one of his dreams, or something almost like it; Nijimura-sempai free of care, of burden, able to come to him and say to Akashi, though Akashi needed no such affirmation, _you’ve done well_ , and smile, like he used to. “This is as refined as you get on short notice,” he said, and touched the hairclips a little self-consciously. One of them was coming loose, catching on too-short hair. “If I’m going to need to dress up as a girl every time to get your attention I think next time we’ll just go with the bucket of cold water.”

A smile tugged on Akashi’s lips, because it was better than saying, _I will dream of this now_. “But then I would be in danger of catching cold,” he said. “Besides, I surely cannot be beholden to a chance remark I made to the school paper two years ago. It was obviously ambush journalism.”

“You could have said what Aomine did,” said Nijimura, and they both smirked at this. Aomine’s reply had gotten him blacklisted by the girls of Teikou right up until his voice started changing.

Nijimura yawned, suddenly, and to his shock Akashi felt a yawn stretching his face as well, though he covered it with his hand instead of exposing his tonsils to the world. “Oh, look, you’re tired,” said Nijimura, in tones of unmistakable triumph. “To bed with you, young man, and if you do it right now I’ll tuck you in and wish you good night.”

Akashi eyed him unfavourably. “Women don’t actually talk like that,” he informed his ex-captain. Then yawned again. Akashi truly was dressed for sleep; he had only meant to finish up a few small items before he retired for the night. Nijimura settled the question by turning off the desk light and standing in front of Akashi’s laptop until Akashi gave in and sat on his bed. Further offers to be tucked in- like a _child_ \- were denied.

“I said this was the best you were going to get and you’re going to fucking like it,” said Nijimura, hand on the light switch. “Now just go to sleep already. And stop staying up late like this. You know if you get dark circles you’ll spoil your looks, right?”

Darkness fell, and Nijimura shut the door decisively on Akashi’s barely-considered retort, that surely as long as sempai was faithful he would need no other girl, no other admirer.

Almost before he knew it Akashi was awake again with the morning sun streaming through the curtains he had forgotten to close, curled on top of his blanket, hearing the dorm wake up around him. He hadn’t even stayed awake long enough to get under the covers. Akashi was going to have to look into that tea.

He got up and promptly trod on something sharp and metallic, which on inspection turned out to be one of Nijimura’s hairclips lying forgotten on the floor, evidence, as much as the thermos standing on Akashi’s desk, of his midnight visit from the person of his dreams, evidence that Nijimura-sempai had come in last night and they’d- talked.

Akashi set it on his desk without a single qualm for whoever they must have borrowed it from. It made a nice token, for now whenever Akashi felt his spirits diminish he could look at it, immediately recall Nijimura-sempai’s very terrible female impersonation, and feel at once restored to himself; how badly he had poured tea, and how exaggeratedly he flirted, like some caricature of a court lady with his shawl standing in for a giant sleeve.

How it had sparked in Nijimura-sempai’s hair when his eyes smiled at Akashi, as brilliantly as stars.


End file.
